


VELOCITY

by vanhunks



Series: "It's your move" [3]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Daydreaming, F/M, Sex no love, Sexual Fantasy, What Have I Done, playing with fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: Chakotay is getting his back at Janeway after she basically humiliated him in the mess hall. In a game of Velocity, he seeks to gain the upper hand. What is he planning and why?





	VELOCITY

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Third in the series "It's your move", after "Command Performance" and "After the ping". The series explores the sexual shenenigans between Janeway and Chakotay. I haven't written sex scenes in years and this is my indulgence. Be warned, much cussing and f-words!
> 
> 2\. This story has not been betaread so all mistakes are my own.

* * *

I can tell anyone who chooses to listen, that it's not easy to fool Kathryn Janeway. No amount of keeping cards close to the chest, or chuck a trick ball, or adopting a poker face can keep the captain from spotting your true intentions. Janeway will know that there's an underlying thing going on and within seconds have an unsuspecting ensign in tears, or senior officers floundering in their big little lies.

She's found out Paris on numerous occasions, outsmarted Torres, Seven of Nine, Kim and even Tuvok who consummately never tells lies. Well, with Tuvok unless it is to observe that those lies are merely "untruths".

Then there's me, the "I can see right through you, Commander" me. She has outwitted me many times, unsuspecting of her designs until the last moment when she reels me in or strikes like the Cardassan catwalker.

No more. After the pings on our communal console weeks ago, after her seduction in the mess hall - the woman fucked me with her feet! - I am making absolutely certain she doesn't get me again. I want her, of course. I desire her badly, ever since two viewscreens set the universe alight seven years ago. Ever since that screen - to -screen chemistry I have fantasized about bedding Janeway. I've bedded her naturally, shackled her hands above her head and splayed legs and had my evil way with her anyway, anyhow.

In my dreams!

No more.

Exiting holodeck 2, who should accost me in the corridor?

"You know there is an EMH on board, Commander. You look like hell. Your eye is black and swollen shut and the other eye is going that way. See him, if you can. That's an order."

Damn! Her hair is beautiful.

"You sound like you care, Janeway."

For weeks we've been playing this none too delicate game of chess, and right now, a thrill courses through me. Janeway wants to engage again. It's game on! I'm ready for this pint-sized little sex-kitten whose lips are red and smile is sweetly sucking me in. She walks briskly to keep up with me, so I deliberately widen my strides. Janeway doesn't break a sweat, I can tell you that. I want to see her out of breath when she confronts me.

"My concern is for my senior officers to function at peak efficiency. Be awake even when you sleep. Get that? Go see the doctor," she orders, her voice level.

As I said, she's not even breaking a sweat. I merely nod when we part at the next corridor. I bump into Tuvok who raises an eyebrow, catches Janeway hurrying off in the opposite direction. I could swear he winked!

"It's your move next, Commander Chakotay," Tuvok declares. "So I've heard…"

After that ping on the bridge and footsie in the mess hall, who on Voyager doesn't know of the Janeway-Chakotay shenanigans?

Who indeed?

_Naomi, not you too!_

The turbolift takes me to Astrometrics. Seven of Nine is alone, as I've instructed her.

"Commander, you look…banged up," she says.

I'm not going to admit having a hellish headache! "I'll see the EMH later. What have you got?"

"I've encrypted your activities in the holodeck. You spend fifteen minutes letting Baby Jake Boom-Boom Romano beat you to a pulp. Well, that's what everyone will think. I do not think even Captain Janeway will decrypt the codes and if that should ever happen, she will only view the _Commander vs Baby Jake_ fight of ten rounds. That's enough cover for your programme EX459."

"Thanks, Annika. I owe you one. Janeway will never find out what is really happening."

I feel on top of the world, floating towards the doors of the holodeck. I'm going to bang the snot out of Janeway. There will be no musical interludes, no rhythmic cadences of moving bodies. Just hard, hard irregular banging.

"Commander…"

Sometimes, Seven of Nine's voice can grate.

"Yes?" I ask, turning to look at her. She is silhouetted against the light from the viewscreen, her silver catsuit doing nothing but enhance all her unmentionable, ridiculous curves. I give a sigh. Annika took in it good spirit when I let her down gently a few weeks ago, before Janeway got into my pants.

"Why?"

"To get back at Janeway, of course."

Seven frowns, the urge to reveal my true mission almost slipping from my tongue. Then I shake my head. Seven is still the girl-woman ingénue and no match for Kathryn Janeway. As the doors open and I step into the corridor, I hear her.

"Is she good in bed, Commander?"

I think of my seven year long fantasies about Voyager's captain, my prurient daydreaming where Janeway squirms underneath me, the pings on the console between us, my humiliation a few weeks ago at her tiny fucking FEET. I've wanted Janeway forever, always imagining driving my cock deep into her, telling her she should dream of England while I ravage her body. I've had her up against the bulkhead in the turbolifts, on all fours in Jefferies Tube 37, splayed on Sandrine's pool table, all in my wild imagination. I hate that Kathryn has this control over me. But me and Janeway in her quarters, on her bed between black satin sheets, wrapping her legs round my waist in wild orgasmic pleasure and begging for more?

"Seven of Nine, I can tell you the God-honest truth - I have never _bedded_ Janeway."

_I wish I had…_

I picture Seven gaping as I make my way to the medical bay. I gave her my specifications and she was decent enough to comply, decent enough not to talk to anyone. I sense a tinge of jealousy in her. Did she want me to try out her unmentionable great promontories and lock my teeth onto them? Just thinking about it makes the bile rise so I shrug off any thought of Seven experimenting with mating behaviour. By the time I reach sick bay, my good eye has started to swell and the main biobed is barely visible.

The EMH must be sick of seeing my banged up face. But I don't care. Let them all think Baby Jake Whatever took me in four rounds. I smile to myself. Yes, what do they know really?

"I don't want to see you in here for at least a week, Commander," the EMH snaps at me.

My face looks good again, tattoo lines back to normal after they looked like a wrinkled star chart.

"A week," I tell the Doctor. "I'll be back!"

***

Next morning doesn't start well on the bridge. I get snickering and knowing smiles when I enter and Janeway stares straight ahead, not looking up with her usual smile when I sit down. Her greeting is mumbled absently as she fiddles with the monitor between us. I want to kill her right there for being so dismissive.

"Morning, Captain." Janeway glances up, nods, then continues her fiddling.

I wonder what's bugging her, because something is definitely bugging her. She doesn't look up when I sit down, so different from other days and she looks glum. She humiliated me weeks ago, in the presence of crew like Mahoney who dallied about the mess hall that night. I don't ask what's bugging her, hoping she'll come round and tell me herself. So we sit gazing into space, playing a waiting game. This time space is _not-dead_ like that day I drifted into dream meanderings of driving my swollen cock up Janeway's willing shaft. Make no mistake - that is still my ultimate goal - Janeway begging me for sex before we reach the Alpha Quadrant.

A subtle shift and my back hairs prick. I purse my lips. Here it is. Is Janeway going to show her hand, I wonder? I imagine us playing 3-D chess, imagine her plonking a piece down and then skewering me with a look that says, "Take that, Commander!" I can almost feel her breath on my back. What the heck? She's sitting right next to me!

"Word has it you're seeing Seven of Nine," Janeway hisses, her eyes remaining glued to the viewscreen, but leaning ever so close to my side.

"You have a problem with that?" I snap back, not daring to look at her. I sense the ears of Paris, Harry and Torres pricking. Tuvok's ears are always pointed. I raise my voice a bit for their benefit. "Are you jealous?"

"Are you an idiot?" comes her instant rejoinder.

"For what? Bedding the Borg?"

Good thing the Borg is not on the Bridge this morning, else her ears would have glowed red.

"Are you?"

"None of your business, Captain. After that humiliating display of working my genitals in the mess hall, I'm all but done with being your freak show."

"You settle for the next best thing?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Janeway. The Borg wants me, and that's more than I can say for you."

All conversation is conducted while we're staring at a nebula that looks like pus oozing from a boil. I have a sudden urge to vomit. What is the matter with the captain this morning?

"Tell you what, Commander," her voice sounds up. "Let's smoke a peace pipe together. Are you on for a game of Velocity?"

I was hoping that the challenge would come from Janeway. She would have guessed instantly I'm brewing a devious scheme had I broached it first. Janeway is smart. I've never beaten her at Velocity, so her suggestion of "peace" and peace pipes is really debatable. I shrug and glance round. Harry nods approvingly, Tuvok's mouth pulls into what I'm thinking is a grin, supported by twitching his pointies, but it could be pain. The wheels are turning in Paris's head. By nightfall betting would be rife on the ship and Janeway would have beaten Chakotay in a best of ten rounds.  

"You're on, Janeway. When?"

"Tonight, 19h00," she replies.

I feel her eyes burn right through my Maquis pin. Turning away from the viewscreen, I'm hit by a blast of venom and a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

"Tonight it is," I mutter, not wanting to appear like I could screw the panties off her.

************

"I'm blue, Janeway."

"I'm not complaining, Commander. Phasers on high?"

"Going for the jugular, aren't you?"

"Just making sure, considering you have never beaten me at Velocity. I'm upping the stakes."

I stand toe to toe with her. Her nostrils are twitching. So are mine, but I'm snorting like a bull and mentally stomping the dry ground under me. Kathryn cranes her neck to look at me. The anger and sexual tension bounces off of her. Alpha shift is over, the night is ours and I'm ready for a fight.

"Phasers on high it is, Captain."

"How about betting on a win?" she purrs. "I win, I find useful punishment for you. Better still, let's play Strip Velocity."

"Daring, aren't you? When you are down to your knickers, I win," I bite it out. "I fuck you in your bed."

Her eyes widen in surprise, or is it keenness? The last thing I would want Janeway to do is to DELIBERATELY lose.

"Agreed. But you won't win, Commander. I keep you out of my bed. It's game on!"

She moves to the opposite side of the imaginary court, ready to strike.

"Computer, engage Velocity."

"Round ONE in FOUR-THREE-TWO-ONE."

Like a clay pigeon, the disc whizzes towards Janeway and she strikes. Red flies back. I move across the floor like a Cardassian super catwalker, striking the disc swiftly and sending it back to her. A few exchanges, then suddenly, just a millisecond break in concentration and it hits me in the chest, hard and thorough. I'm momentarily winded.  

Damn!

"FULL IMPACT.  ROUND ONE TO CAPTAIN JANEWAY."

"Remove your top, Chakotay. This is going to be fun," she says with a wicked little smile. "Before long you'll be naked and I can have my way with you…again!"

I comply, the garment flying to a corner and cursing myself for losing it. Don't worry, that will be the Captain's last smile for a while.

We resume. This time the computer is very generous.

"FULL IMPACT.  ROUND TWO TO COMMANDER CHAKOTAY."

"FULL IMPACT.  ROUND THREE TO COMMANDER CHAKOTAY."

"FULL IMPACT.  ROUND FOUR TO COMMANDER CHAKOTAY."

"FULL IMPACT.  ROUND FIVE TO COMMANDER CHAKOTAY."

Janeway looks sour. She's standing in bra and panties. She frowns at my obvious agility -  jumping, diving, sliding, twisting, striking the disc each time accurately and aiming for any part of Janeway's anatomy. She's turning blue and black on her arms, thighs and calves. There's a dark patch against her cheek. But she persists.

"You can stop now, Captain and just proceed to your bedroom…"

"I won't lose to you, Chakotay!" she hisses, standing chest to chest with me. Her perfume mixes oddly with her perspiration . She looks gloriously sweaty, with stray wisps of hair clinging to her skin. I feel I might lose it and throw her down on the floor, ripping off her panties before we're even down.

"You wanted best of ten rounds," I remind her. "I'd saying I'm winning and you're standing almost naked."

Janeway turns to resume her position at the opposite end. I hear her murmur "bastard" as she walks away.

The next round she wins. Did I let her win? Oh, yes. I control my game! My training sessions in the holodeck, playing the  best Velocity opponents I could programme. Yes, I got beaten, bashed, knocked over, had cuts on my face sutured by Holodoc too many times. I got good, fending off the most agile holographic players, honing my skills, sharpening my reaction times.

Boxing? What boxing?

"FULL IMPACT.  ROUND SEVEN TO COMMANDER CHAKOTAY."

Janeway is struggling, her concentration slipping dangerously. Yet she persists. It's her nature to be stubborn, nerveless. She doesn't speak a word as she calmly removes her bra. I almost lose it looking at the titties - round little globules, pert, firm, inviting. I want those aureoles in my mouth. They will be there in about two hours. I cannot wait.

Should she welch on her bet I will personally dump her out an airlock in an EV suit and tractor her for a thousand kilometers.

 "Computer, pause game."

 "We're not finished, Commander."

 "By all calculations in a ten round match of Velocity, I cannot lose anymore, Captain," I tell her.

 "Damn you."

 "I want black satin sheets, a pair of cuffs, a blindfold and a pair of knee-length boots."

 There's rage in her eyes. I don't care how angry she is. I won. I pull her roughly to me, breathe into her face, caress her tight little bottom with roughened hands. She doesn't pull away, but I resist the urge to let my fingers slither snake-like into her core, though I am dead certain she is as moist as the inside of her mouth. I push her away from me. I know what I want; I know what I'm going to get.

 "Computer, end programme"

 I collect my jacket and tank top and leave Janeway standing naked and open-mouthed.

 *******************

  **Several hours later in Janeway's quarters.**

In the low illumination of her bedroom Kathryn lies asleep with the abandon of complete exhaustion. Her naked body tangles with the silky smooth satin sheets. She looks like those perfume commercials Paris watches on his 20th century TV set, the models always wrapped in waves satin fabric of whatever colour the perfume suggests. Hair splayed, arm flung over the pillow, her mouth slightly open. Her alabaster skin glistens, the saltiness still lingering on my tongue. And I wonder, illogically I suppose, whether she had lain like this with Justin and Mark. So self-assured of her nudity, yet with a refinement that would make bed-hopping entirely out of character. Not even Kashyk with his suave, manipulative hunter's instinct could really pierce Janeway's reserve.

 That leaves me - her first officer, mentor, alarm-clock, moral compass, friend, confidant, sounding-board, even enemy! Have I penetrated her innate sensibilities? It is okay for her to do a number on me, but for her to be on the receiving end?

 We are playing a dangerous game, one which I started, I'm willing to accede - games of sex in which we count the costs later.

 I lie on my side, braced on my elbow as I study Kathryn. My sweep sweep over her body - the soft planes of her belly, the rise of her breasts, the dip towards the damp patch of hair which I have touched maybe  a hundred times. Hours ago, when her doors slid open, I had given her no time to object, demur, to have a conversation over a cup of tea. Recalling those moments, convinces me now that Kathryn was waiting, was just as eager to serve under me. I admire her spunk, that she honours her bet, that she agreed to my terms in the first place.

 Our clothes are all over the floor, trailing from the entrance of her quarters to her bedroom. My cock, hard and hot was already inside her by the time we hit the bed. It was rough, hard copulation, no excuses, no apologies, just the need to assuage a raging hunger that asked for no reprieve. Pings and fantasies on the bridge, footsie in the mess hall are what I realise now, just elaborate foreplay for what happened here tonight.

 I am blinded by a trillion flashes of light behind my eyelids as I recall the aftermath of loud, animal-like orgasms and screams. And then began the seduction…

 Hours ago…

 "You want more," I tell her in a voice that has grown gruff over the first heady joining of our bodies, stars that collided and created bright explosions.

 I'm still hard, my appetite all but heightened by the rough entry and unbridled movement inside her. She's breathing heavily, a fine film of sweat covering her body. In a rush of emotion I cover her breast, my mouth clamping an aureole and I begin to suck gently. I hear her sigh as her legs clamp my body. She hasn't spoken yet, the action her only answer.

 I kiss and lick every part of her. I watch enthralled as her fingers grab clumps of the shiny black satin, whitened knuckles the only sign that she finds the intensity of my caresses unbearable. I slide my tongue over skin that is taut, that trills where I touch her until I reach her sex, her folds open, swollen, readying for my invasion.

 So I ride her, in the one fantasy I always had - Kathryn's legs flung over my shoulder, her thighs spread and her core welcoming my tongue, my fingers. Later I enter and fill her to the hilt and we sway together, more languidly than the first stormy joining.

 We climax noisily together. I am panting hard and tell her I should go now, I got what I desired.

 "The bet isn't off yet, Commander," she orders.

 My heart thunders. She wants more?

 "What do you want, Captain?"

 "Everything…"

 Surfacing to the present, I think of how I did everything, played out every wicked fantasy I had of bending Janeway to my will. I look at her rosy lips and remember how she worked my cock until I was deep inside her mouth, .

 Everything…her hands kneading my buttocks, willing me to pump harder.

 For a moment I am struck by a sudden feeling of guilt. We had spoken very little while we copulated. Mine was a raging thirst that needed to be slaked. No time to ponder on whether she felt the same, though her responses were evidence of her need too. She lost a bet, was willing to pay the price for it.

 She stirs, a movement of leisurely unhurriedness, then sighs again, turning on her side facing me. A lock of hair falls across her cheek and I brush it carefully behind her ear. In sleep Kathryn is still, at rest, oblivious of the day's trials or those that would bedevil her in the morning, as if an inner switch had been turned off somewhere.

 I wish I could sleep the sleep of the guiltless. I've done what I wanted. At no time, either in the holodeck or here in her bedroom, though our rousing sex could be reason for the lack of any decent conversation, did Kathryn ask why I was able to beat her.

 Maybe one day - that day might be tomorrow, who knows? - she might ask. I don't know. All that overrode any urge to reveal my plans, was the fact that I had to best her at something to gain an advantage.

 I caress her thigh and she twitches before settling into an even rhythm of breathing. She feels soft, stimulating a deep aching need to let my lips follow my fingers down her leg. I abandon the idea as I realise that duty will force us both on the bridge in a few hours. Kathryn needs the rest and I?

 I am reluctant to leave and I know deep in my heart that tonight will not be repeated. What have we done? What have _I_ done? I dress slowly. My garments were strewn all over the floor. I fix my Maquis pin in place and enter the bedroom again.

 We played and counter played in sex games that I realise can only end in stalemate. No emotion, no investing in care, no protection, no love, just the simple, raw desire to outwit one another and score points.

 I pause to look at Kathryn's sleeping form before heading for the replicator. There is a fierce burning in my eyes. Something buried so deeply that I am hardly ever aware that it is there, is beginning to bubble slowly to the surface. I don't want to acknowledge it; I don't want it to destroy me; succumbing to it will surely be the end of me. Over the years I have schooled myself, to keep that feeling suppressed with rigorous discipline. I blind myself to the image of staring at her through the Liberty's viewscreen.

 Don't go there!

 She made me aware from the very beginning that there can never be an "us", that all my fantasies are my own, that she would even allow me to indulge in my wildest flights of imagination. After what we had just done, whatever there was between the captain and her first officer - friendship, camaraderie, mentorship, humour, odd wisecracking as we sit side-by-side on the bridge, touching - is no longer there.

 What have I done? I ask myself as I return with a flower in my hand. I gaze at her sleeping form. She has turned to the other side, her palm cupping her cheek.

 I place the peace rose close to her hand, on the pillow.

 I am not looking forward to the bright light of day.

 ***********

 END

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
